The Taxman Cometh
by Larabee's Lady
Summary: In the ATF alternative universe, where our boys are the ATF agents of Team 7, Ezra is reluctantly recruited by Buck for a favor.


**Rating: **G  
**Comments: ** Takes place in the ATF/AU. A little Ezra and Buck.

**The Tax Man Cometh**

"Pleeeeeeease, Ezra."

"No, Buck."

"Oh, come on. I got all the forms and receipts and everything."

Ezra sighed. "And you've waited till the very last minute to do this."

"PLEEEEEASE?" Buck looked at him hopefully.

"And don't try that puppy dog look on me. I'm not one of your lady friends--thank goodness," he added under his breath.

Buck waited.

"Oh, all right! All right!"

Ezra took off his jacket and sat back down at his desk. "But you'll pay me the same as you would H&R Block, you understand? By the hour. In cash."

Buck nodded. "Can we get started now?"

Ezra sighed. "Fine. Might as well order dinner. And from a restaurant." Buck opened his mouth to reply, but Ezra cut him off. "McDonald's is NOT a restaurant. Do you want me to do this or not?"

Buck's mouth snapped shut. He just nodded and opened the drawer of his desk. "Here y'are. Here's the forms." Buck put them on Ezra's desk. "And here's the receipts."

"A SHOE BOX?" Ezra's nose wrinkled with distaste. "What shoes were in these last? Not new ones, am I right?"

Buck shrugged. "It's all there. I've saved everything."

Ezra peered into the box and pulled out a crumpled paper between two fingers. "What's this? A Butterfinger wrapper? What did you do, run out of toilet paper?"

"That's a receipt."

"Ah, yes, now I see. I missed the crayon." Ezra paused, looking through the odd scraps of paper, food wrappers, and cocktail napkins. He studied one of the scraps of paper. "What's this? Dependents? Five of them?" He looked at Buck, his mouth open in disbelief. "Where do you come up with five dependents?"

"Melissa," Buck replied simply. "There's Susan, Carla, Sarah, Victoria..."

"Buck, I don't care how much cat food you buy, you cannot claim her pets as your dependents!"

"Theyr'e big cats! You should see how they eat--"

"--I don't care if they're Bengal tigers and you're Siegfried--"

"I took 'em to the vet, too--"

"--NO!"

Ezra sighed and loosened his shirt collar. Why on earth was he doing this? Probably to keep Buck out of jail, no doubt, for which the rest of the team would be appreciative at least. So would he, because no doubt he'd have to handle all of Buck's paperwork during his incarceration.

"Okay, order from that Sezchuan place, LiPong's, while I work on this..."

The evening dragged on.

"How's it comin', Ezra?"

"Fine, Buck. Is it your plan to ask me that every 15 minutes?"

"Just checkin'."

Ezra had long since removed his tie and now his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He leaned back in his chair and absently put his pencil behind his ear. He tentatively plucked a stained cocktail napkin out of the box. "Would you mind translating this one for me? I'm not handling these any more than I have to."

Buck took it and squinted at it carefully. "Business dinner. I think. No, one o' them seminars."

"At the Gentleman's Dollhouse? You wouldn't happen to remember which seminar _that _was?"

"Aw, hell, Ezra, that was afterwards. Besides you know I don't stay awake for those seminar things. I just go where Chris tells me."

"Indeed." Ezra idly wondered that, if that was so, why wasn't Buck in a very 'warm' place. He had distinctly heard Chris make that little travel suggestion on more than one occasion.

Little by little and one by one, the many scraps of paper moved from one pile on the desk to the other pile. Ezra sighed and rubbed his eyes. How anyone could have their finances in such disarray, he couldn't imagine. He smiled as he thought of Maude. His mother always enjoyed doing her taxes. It was like a big game to her, to see how many deductions she could claim. Maude owed a debt of thanks for her big refunds to Sally Struthers and all those little Central American kids she's sponsored--and claimed--over the years.

Ezra stretched and yawned. Buck hadn't badgered him now for at least 30 minutes. And no wonder. The ladies' man was snoring, his feet propped up on JD's desk. Ezra looked at his watch. It was after 11:50 and he was running out of time. He straightened up, and prepared to electronically file the return. He sighed in relief, glad to be done with the onerous task at last, and vowing to never do it again.

"Mr. Wilmington?"

Buck snored loudly in reply. Ezra put on his coat and nudged the ladies' man with his foot. "Wake up!"

Buck started awake. "Huh? What? Did we make it?"

"I just filed it."

"Yeee-ha! Thanks, Ezra! Filed all of it, didja?"

"Indeed. You now owe me for filing your 2001 return. And you owe the government, but I got every receipt accounted for on your return."

Buck stopped celebrating and gaped at him. "Wait...wait...That's it? That's all you done?"

It was now Ezra's turn to gape. "What do you mean 'all'? I've spent four hours on this while you slept through the whole thing!"

"But we ain't done!"

Ezra looked at him in confusion and a bit of growing impatience. "I just told you--I filed your 2001 return. AND at 11:59 exactly, I might add, so you just made the deadline, thanks to me."

Buck shook his head.

"Then perhaps, Buck, you should explain to me what the problem is."

"That's this year! Those receipts go back two more years! We got two more to do!"

Ezra took off his coat, and sat down with a sigh. It was going to be a VERY long night.

------------------------------

END


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